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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103504">if you're lost, you can look (you will find me)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock'>atlantisairlock</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Military Wives (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Developing Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 04:49:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Liam isn't KIA, but Red and Richard are. Kate and Lisa bond and recover in the aftermath.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kate Barkley/Lisa Lawson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>if you're lost, you can look (you will find me)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorksnow/gifts">newyorksnow</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from 'time after time'... do i need to explain why</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lisa remembers, with crystal clarity, the first time Red went on a tour - kissing him goodbye at the front door of their new home on the base and watching him leave with that sick feeling in her stomach, that sour taste in her mouth. Frankie was only six then, old enough to register that he was gone, but not enough to really understand that he might not come back. Saying goodbye has never become any easier, especially not as Frankie got older and stopped needing her so much. It used to be that Frankie took up so much of her time when Red was gone that it didn’t leave her any to miss him. Then she got older and started missing him too.</p><p>It’s different this time, she’ll admit. With the choir, and especially with the Festival of Remembrance. It’s felt good to wholeheartedly throw herself into something that occupies her thoughts and energy. It’s helped to quieten the ever-present voice in the back of her mind worrying endlessly about Red, halfway across the world.</p><p>Then on one overcast morning, the doorbell rings, and it explodes back into life.</p><p>Frankie’s already in the hallway putting her shoes on, getting ready to go to school. She reaches for the doorknob without a second thought and Lisa wants to scream - <em>no, Frankie, don’t -</em></p><p>The door opens and two men in pressed suits with sombre expressions stand beyond it.</p><p>The whole world slows to a stop.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s a bad op, she learns later. Lots of other spouses just like her across different garrisons, getting the same news. Half the choir turns up at her front door bearing food and sympathy, and Ruby takes Frankie to the side for a quiet chat with that blunt kindness she does so well. Lisa sips aimlessly on a drink, everything so fuzzy and unreal beyond her that it takes a good half-hour before it dawns on her and she turns to Annie, pressed up against her side. “Where’s Kate?”</p><p>The whole room falls silent and Lisa feels herself suddenly snap back into focus, her heart pounding. Dread catches in her throat, making it hard to speak. “Annie, where’s Kate?”</p><p>“With Crooks,” she replies, and Lisa thinks <em>no. Oh god. It’s Richard.</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She finds Kate’s door unlocked when she goes over that night, after Frankie’s well and knocked out from crying herself to sleep in Lisa’s arms. When she cautiously enters and calls Kate’s name there’s no answer, and she feels a jolt of alarm. “Kate?” She takes the stairs two at a time, pushing doors open and fearing the sight she’ll be privy to. “Kate? Are you home? Kate, it’s me - “ She stops when she reaches one of the bedrooms and, thank <em>god</em>, sees Kate sitting on the floor staring at a photo in her hands. <em>Alive. </em>Lisa almost collapses in relief as she slowly makes her way over, telegraphing her movements so Kate can tell her to get out if she wants.</p><p>She doesn’t, though, so Lisa edges close enough to take a seat next to her, leaning against the bed. Over Kate’s shoulder she can see the picture of a young Jamie on Richard’s back, both of them laughing - carefree, happy. A perfect moment frozen in time. Kate’s not in it, presumably holding the camera. Looking right at them instead of being by their sides.</p><p>“He didn’t need to go,” Kate says. Her voice is steady and strong; she could be speaking of the weather. “He could have stayed home, this tour. He volunteered.”</p><p>Lisa doesn’t know what to say, and doesn’t think Kate would want to hear any of it. They sit in silence, shoulders brushing. Kate doesn’t turn to look at her, but she does lean into Lisa, just a little. “I’m sorry about Red, Lisa.”</p><p>Lisa swallows and thinks about her own photographs in their frames on the mantel back home, Red’s last letter from a week ago still sitting on the sidetable. “Yeah. Me too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They hold Richard’s funeral a day after Red’s; the choir sings at both, and Kate doesn’t cry at either. Lisa catches sight of her standing frozen and still in the front pew of the church watching Richard’s casket brought to rest. She’s seen Kate cold before, stiff and unrelenting, but never like this. Maybe at Jamie’s funeral - but Lisa wouldn’t know. She wasn’t in attendance, didn’t know Kate then, not like she does now. Even at Kate’s sharpest, angry and frustrated at Lisa and unwilling to compromise, there was a fire in her, something Lisa could stoke and snap back at. There’s nothing there now. Just silence as she stands before Richard’s grave and they watch the gun salute send him off for the very last time.</p><p>“Hey,” she says to Kate after, catching her by the elbow before they leave the service and go off their separate ways. She doesn’t ask inane questions like <em>are you okay </em>because they both know neither of them are, but she gives Kate a quick squeeze of her arm that she hopes conveys what goes unsaid. “If you need anything - “</p><p>“I think we should still perform at the Festival of Remembrance,” Kate interrupts. “It’d be bad form to pull out now. We should convince the other women to keep going.”</p><p>Lisa blinks, thrown, and she almost opens her mouth to let what she’s thinking spill out - <em>that’s what you’re worried about now? </em>Until she meets Kate’s eyes, properly, and sees the despair behind the mask of stoic calm. Kate doesn’t know what to do. Kate doesn’t know what she’s <em>going </em>to do with herself from here on out with regards to possibly everything in her life except the choir. Lisa’s got Frankie and Kate hasn’t. This is all she has.</p><p>“Okay,” she says. “Okay. We’ll keep going.”</p><p>Kate nods and the briefest ghost of a smile flickers across her face. “I’ll see you at practice.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The choir comes to an executive decision to write their own song after agreeing that nothing out there seems completely fitting for the festival. Lisa goes through all of Red’s letters for inspiration and finds that it’s a lot easier not to break down into sobs over them when she thinks about putting his words to verse.</p><p>She eventually even finds the courage to approach Frankie about it. “Do you want to contribute? To the song, I mean.”</p><p>Frankie looks up at her from where she’s curled up in bed looking at her phone; her eyes look red and she nestles far more readily into the hug Lisa offers than she would have weeks ago. “How?”</p><p>“If there’s a line of your dad’s, from your letters. Something you’d like us to sing. I can figure that out. It could be like hearing his voice again.” Frankie’s face crumples and Lisa quickly follows up. “I know it’s not the same. It’s fine, if it’s not something you want.”</p><p>“No, it’s - I’d like that. I think.” She wraps her arms tight around Lisa and doesn’t let go. “I want to hear him again. It’s not fair.”</p><p>Lisa strokes her hair, lets Frankie cry into her shoulder. “I know, baby. I know.”</p><p>“We’re going to have to move off the base, aren’t we?” Frankie asks, muffled. It makes Lisa stop short - she’d forgotten about that, in the haze of grief and the subsequent throwing herself back into the choir to push past it. “I wanted to, Mum. I kept wishing and hoping for it and now it’s all - it’s all wrong.”</p><p>“Frankie, this isn’t your fault.”</p><p>“I know,” she says, but it doesn’t stop the tears, and Lisa doesn’t expect them to. She doesn’t let go of Frankie, but her thoughts shift to the thought of moving off the base, the reality that will soon come to pass. Flitcroft is all she’s known for nine years, and she doesn’t know where she’ll go after this or what she’ll do to earn a salary or even where to <em>live</em>. She can’t move out with family or something - Red’s parents are long-dead and it’ll be a cold day in hell before she speaks to her dad again. They’ve got savings, but definitely not enough to stay long-term anywhere decent - anywhere near enough a good school for Frankie. Shit, she’s going to have to switch schools, too. Lisa feels the sharp sting of rising panic inside her and tries to quash it. She’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it. Frankie doesn’t need to worry about this; Lisa won’t let her. She’ll figure it out. She will.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Only the deadline draws closer and closer; there’s a lot of leeway given to the families of deceased servicemen, but she can’t stay on the base <em>forever</em>. And she can’t spend her days just figuring out where to go - she still has to work at the shop, more than ever to earn her keep, not to mention write the choir’s song in time for the festival. Frankie needs her, spends more time with her now, and while it’s good for both of them it means she doesn’t get a scrap of time to sit down and plan for the long-term. She’s pretty sure she’d be turning to the bottle if it weren’t for the fact that she honestly doesn’t have the time. She doesn’t know what to do.</p><p>A week before the festival, Kate stops by while Frankie’s at school, looking perfectly put-together, like she has in all their practices so far. Lisa isn’t fooled, but she knows better than to bring it up. “How’s the songwriting going?”</p><p>“Not great,” Lisa confesses after a brief moment of hesitation. They’re a lot closer now, no longer at odds with each other the way they were at the beginning, but sometimes old habits just die hard. Lisa has to remind herself that she trusts Kate now, that they’ve come to a deeper understanding of each other. She can be imperfect around Kate, even when it comes to something as important as this.</p><p>Sure enough, Kate nods, casting a glance around at the papers scattered around the living room, all of Lisa’s failed drafts and works in progress and copies of the women’s letters and some of her own. “You’ll get there. We’ve still got a week.” She takes a seat on the couch beside Lisa, careful not to jostle any of her notes. “That’s not what I came to talk to you about, though. Do you have a moment?”</p><p>If she’s being honest, Lisa doesn’t think she does, but Kate looks so earnest that she can’t say no. “What’s going on?”</p><p>“I’ve got to move off the base soon,” Kate says, fingers twisted together. “I know you do, too. Have you… have you figured out where you’re going to stay?”</p><p>Lisa feels her temples beginning to throb again; she doesn’t want to think about it, especially not with the festival deadline coming closer. “No. Everything’s so expensive, and I don’t have much to speak of in savings.”</p><p>“Me too. Especially not if I want to remain near the garrison.”</p><p>“What?” Lisa frowns, confused. “What does that have to do with - you could go anywhere.”</p><p>“Not if I’m going to stay in the choir,” says Kate - now she’s the one looking bewildered. “Lisa, you’re not planning to leave it, are you? We need you.”</p><p>“Red’s <em>gone,” </em>Lisa snaps, with more bite in it than she intends. Kate’s words just hit too hard on a wound that’s still festering; her packed schedule has been a good distraction but it’s not exactly a balm on Red’s death. “The choir’s for the wives, and we’re not <em>wives </em>any more, Kate.”</p><p>Kate looks at her narrowly. “If it had been one of the other women who’d lost their spouses, instead of us, would you have kicked them out of the choir?”</p><p>“Of course not,” she replies defensively. “I’m just saying - “</p><p>“If you had a choice, would you want to leave the choir?”</p><p>Lisa looks down at the lyrics she’s working on, her own handwriting scrawled messily over her notebooks. There’s only one possible answer. “No.”</p><p>It’s quiet for a beat, until Kate rests a gentle hand over hers and looks her in the eye. “I have a proposition. I think it could be to both our benefit.”</p><p>“Okay,” Lisa says, feeling wary, hesitant, but she’s said she trusts Kate and she does even in this. “What is it?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Apparently there’s a lovely place available for rent just twenty minutes from the garrison, in a small pleasant neighbourhood; it’s even round the corner from a Tesco’s. Lisa’d never be able to afford it on her own, and neither would Kate. But together, that’s a different story.</p><p>She doesn’t say yes immediately, especially not without seeing the house, but she definitely thinks about it during the spare moments she has between working and preparing for the festival. It would mean not having as much space to herself as she currently does, though that was to be expected. It would also mean learning how to live with Kate - and Frankie would have to do that too; she’ll have to discuss it with Frankie before even considering it. But if you twisted her arm she’d have to say she’s open to the idea, even likes it. It’d be convenient, definitely. It’d mean Frankie could keep attending the same school and wouldn’t get uprooted from an environment she’s already used to. She’d still get to be in the choir.</p><p>She sits by Kate on the coach to London; they rally the women together backstage at the Royal Albert Hall and drill the (finally completed) song for a solid hour until they’re word-perfect. Frankie helps them both with their hair and wishes her luck when they’re cued. They’re all there on the steps up to the stage, as ready as they’ll ever be. Kate looks at her, nervous; Lisa knows she is, because she is, too. But she’s a lot less afraid knowing she’s got Kate and the whole choir by her side. They’ll be amazing. She knows they will.</p><p>Neither Richard nor Red are in the audience, nor are they sitting in a camp in Afghanistan with the radio on, listening to the airwaves. But their words are here. She and Kate are here, and it’s not okay, and it’s not enough, but they will survive.</p><p>The spotlights come on, and everything else slips away.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The riotous celebrations, the exultant coach ride home, and even the roaring applause from the audience are all a little blurry later, hard for Lisa to recall each detail. But she remembers slipping her hand into Kate’s on that stage, Kate’s wide, genuine smile. Right before the coach drops her and Frankie off at their doorstep, she bumps Kate’s shoulder with her own. “Shall we go and look at that place you were talking about on Monday?”</p><p>Even in the dark, Kate’s eyes shine bright enough for Lisa to see, pleased and relieved. “Absolutely.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Frankie falls in love with the house at first sight, which is a big contributing factor in why they’ve got an agreement made with the landlord within the end of the day. Three bedrooms; a pleasant enough view; the area’s quiet; the kitchen cozy and functional; and most importantly she can afford the rent with her job at the store. It’s perfect.</p><p>Moving out of the base and into the new place definitely helps to keep her distracted too. She deliberately leaves Red’s stuff to the last, and the day she finally grits her teeth and gets ready to sort through what she’ll keep and what she won’t, Kate appears at her door with the choir, all geared up to help her. Lisa doesn’t cry - from the gratitude and the grief both - but she definitely has to wipe her eyes when they’re all seated together in the living room carefully working through all the possessions Red left behind.</p><p>She expects to feel terrified, possessive, grasping to hold on to every single item of his. She surprises herself with how easy it is to give some things up. She’s got what’s important - all their photos together, his letters, gifts that he made for her with his own hands. Ratty old shirts and books he never read go into cardboard boxes to be donated, and she finds herself okay with that. He’s still with her - in the grooves of her wedding ring, in the mixtapes he put together for her. In Frankie. She has those, and they are enough.</p><p>By the time the house is all cleared out she feels lighter. She and Frankie close the door behind them for the last time, and it feels like a goodbye and it does hurt, something sweet and bruised inside her, but not a tidal wave of agony that she’ll collapse under. Red’s life ended; hers hasn’t. She’s got a new beginning. She’ll be okay.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Moving in with Kate goes… honestly exactly how she expected. Kate likes order and structure - a place for everything, everything in its place. Lisa finds that she isn’t annoyed by Kate’s insistence on putting their photographs on the walls in a specific way, and she’s happy to let Kate sort the kitchen cupboards out exactly how she likes. She can tell it keeps Kate’s hands busy, for one, and every moment she’s arranging the spices in a cabinet is another moment she’s not thinking about Jamie and Richard. And she won’t lie, it’s refreshing to see an incredibly neat house. She’d forgotten what that looked like what with the walking tornadoes Red and Frankie seemed to be.</p><p>They slip into a routine and it’s almost easy - even easier than it was when she first moved in with Red, if she’s being honest. She remembers nagging him about where to put his coats and messing with the medicine cabinet, and there’s none of that with Kate. Lisa goes to work every day, and Kate starts working from home - she’s makes dinner every night and Lisa gets used to the pleasantness of returning from work to the kitchen smelling amazing. They go down to the garrison together once a week for practice with the choir, and sometimes when Lisa sings on the slow stroll back, Kate laughs and joins her despite the strange looks they get from passers-by. Movie night on Friday with Frankie becomes a thing, all three of them curled up on the well-worn couch in the living room putting on whatever DVD they’re in the mood for.</p><p>Her wedding ring stays on her finger. Her room remains full of pictures of Red and Frankie, even though her heart still aches every morning when she wakes up and sees the framed photo of both of them on their first date perched on the sidetable instead of <em>him </em>by her side. But every day, the ache hurts a little less. Red made her promise years ago before they got married that she’d survive beyond his death if it ever happened before his time. They both knew the risks, and part of her was always, always prepared for this outcome. She misses him every day. She will miss him for the rest of her life. She wishes he’d come home, safe and sound. But life moves on, and her with it. For Frankie’s sake, if nothing else - and maybe, when she thinks about it, for Kate, too.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Lisa’s not stupid. It’s pretty damn clear right off the bat that Kate’s suggestion to move in together isn’t just because of financial limitations on both their parts. She knows that Kate was living in a quiet, hollow house after Jamie’s death and Lisa can’t imagine what it would have been like for her to move out of the base and right into yet another empty home, alone with nothing but her ghosts.</p><p>She makes a point to try and spend more time in the common areas of the house, gently encourages Frankie to do so too - not that Frankie needs much of a push on that side; she’s taken to Kate like a duck to water and some days it feels like she still gets along with Kate better than she does with her own mother. Lisa’s not bitter about it - they’re so much closer now, bonding so much better after Red and after the performance at the Royal Albert Hall. She’s all Frankie has left now and Lisa tries not to forget it, ever.</p><p>She thinks they’ve somehow become all Kate has too, the choir aside. It’s not a bad thing. Kate’s a remarkably good influence and Lisa can admit that. She drinks so much less after moving in with Kate, both of them having found better things to hold on to. When she feels like shit, they sit together in the kitchen with warm mugs of tea and some of the good biscuits Kate saves for special occasions, and Kate helps her talk through things instead of burying them with alcohol. Sometimes Kate feels like shit too, and they go out for a late-night drive in Dave, keeping the windows down and playing some of Red’s mixtapes over the stereo.</p><p>It helps, but not as much as Lisa thinks Kate needs. They both lost their husbands to war but Lisa won’t pretend she knows the depths of pain Kate’s still feeling. No matter what, Lisa didn’t lose her only child to an endless war in a country halfway around the world, and then lose her husband not a year after that. Even Frankie’s healing, recovering, moving forward, day by day, but Kate still carries that weight for all that she keeps up an excellent facade. Lisa wants better for her - Kate would if she was in her place, she knows that.</p><p>She doesn’t know how to broach the subject, though. For all that they’re housemates now, friends, it still feels like there are certain barriers between them Lisa can’t pass through, and it’s not a great feeling. She doesn’t want to push too hard because she doesn’t want to lose their friendship; the thought of falling out with Kate and having them go back to their icy relationship before their choir evokes a tight panic in her chest that Lisa really doesn’t like. It feels strangely similar to the fear that would well in her throat every time the doorbell rang during Red’s first tour. She’s already lost something so important to her; she doesn’t want to lose another.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kate keeps going on like nothing is different, stays disciplined and driven during practices with the choir and always smiles like she means it, but Lisa sees the mask slip every so often when it’s just the two of them. She tries to show Kate that it’s okay to be vulnerable around her - Lisa managed to learn her well enough to show her the cracks of her own and she wants Kate to trust her too.</p><p>She discovers that Kate <em>does, </em>a few months after they move in together - when she’s lying in bed on her phone and gets a light knock on the door. She’s surprised to see Kate there when she opens it - she’s usually asleep by midnight, which neither Lisa nor Frankie will ever understand - and she looks exhausted, more drained than Lisa’s seen her since Richard’s funeral. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”</p><p>“No, I don’t sleep that early,” Lisa says, and right now is pretty glad she doesn’t. “Are you okay? You need my help?”</p><p>“Maybe in a manner of speaking,” Kate laughs. It’s soft and mirthless and sounds so, so tired. “I was wondering - I know it’s a huge imposition, and you probably just want to be alone, and - “</p><p>“Hey,” Lisa says, cutting off her ramble, taking Kate’s hands in her own before she can stop to think about it. “It’s fine. You’re not bothering me. What’s going on?”</p><p>Kate meets her eyes, looking hesitant. “Could I spend the night in your room? Just on the floor is fine, I just, I can’t… I don’t want to be alone tonight.” She closes her eyes and exhales, shuddery. Her voice is softer when she speaks again, layered with the pain Lisa knows she’s been carrying but hasn’t let herself show. “I keep hearing his voice. I keep seeing him when I close my eyes, and when I open them he’s not there.”</p><p>Lisa doesn’t bother asking which <em>he </em>she’s talking about, just holds the door open wider and nods towards her bed. “You can share the bed with me. You’re not sleeping on the <em>floor, </em>Kate, come on.”</p><p>“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose - “</p><p>“You don’t take up that much space,” Lisa says lightly, just to see Kate break into a small smile. “It’s fine, Kate.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully - the air seems heavier somehow, the world quieter and smaller, like it’s just the two of them, like what she says carries more weight. “It’s okay to not want to be alone.”</p><p>Kate doesn’t reply, just looks on at her; her gaze holds, searching, and Lisa suddenly feels seen. There’s an uncertainty to the moment she can’t put her finger on. She realises she still has Kate’s hands in hers and that it doesn’t feel strange - both of them standing here in the middle of her bedroom at one in the morning, Kate asking things of Lisa that she’s willing to give.</p><p>Then Kate nods, and it’s broken, slipping away into the night. Her smile is grateful as she eases herself under Lisa’s covers, keeping to the far side of the bed, leaving more than enough space for Lisa herself. Lisa quietly puts her phone down and turns the light off, staring into the darkness and listening to Kate’s breathing even out. It’s been so long since she’s had another person sleep in the same room as her; she thinks she forgot what it was like. She swears she can hear both their heartbeats thudding in the silence, almost in sync. Lisa closes her eyes and counts Kate’s breaths and slowly falls asleep.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>She wakes up before her alarm rings the next morning, the first rays of sunlight streaming into the room through thin curtains. Lisa almost stretches out wide before remembering Kate’s in the same bed, and when she turns her head to look, realises she’s apparently rolled over in her sleep so she’s now facing Lisa. Lisa looks at her, and for some reason, can’t look away, eyes tracing Kate’s features. In sleep, she looks… peaceful. Relaxed. All the usual tension she carries, wound tight inside her, simply disappears. Her chest rises and falls, slow, and as Lisa watches her, she exhales softly, the corner of her mouth turning up, just a little. Lisa guesses she’s still dreaming; she wonders what Kate’s dreaming about.</p><p>She slides out of bed as quietly as she can, careful not to wake Kate, and heads out to wash up and make Frankie some breakfast. She draws the covers over Kate before she leaves and closes the door behind her without a sound.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thank you for last night.</em>
</p><p>Lisa checks her phone at the store, smiling briefly at Kate’s text. <em>No problem, </em>she replies. <em>My door’s always open.</em></p><p>The little bubble that signifies typing pops up on Lisa’s screen, then disappears, then reappears again. Lisa watches curiously as a couple more seconds pass before Kate’s message comes through. <em>I’ll remember that. See you tonight.</em></p><p>“See you too, Captain Kate,” Lisa murmurs under her breath, faintly amused and pleased. She goes back to work with a more genuine smile on her face. Only a few more hours until she’s done, and suddenly they seem closer.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kate knocks on her door again that very night, but much earlier, and she comes bearing warm mugs of honey lemon. Lisa shoots her a welcoming smile and eagerly accepts the drink Kate offers. Kate still looks a little hesitant, just sitting on the very edge of her bed. “I’m not intruding?”</p><p>“Of course not,” Lisa says. If she’s being honest she hasn’t much liked being alone either - her sleep has remained blessedly free of nightmares, but more than once she’s startled awake and reached over to the other side of her bed expecting to feel Red’s sturdy frame but only grasping at thin air. Those instances are slowly becoming rarer, but every time, it still stings, bringing back fresh waves of pain, and the room will always seem so much bigger and emptier than usual when she tries to get back to sleep. Kate’s company is more than welcome, and so is her excellent tea. They settle comfortably onto the bed; Lisa goes back to scrolling through her phone and Kate reads a book of some sort while sipping her honey lemon. The silence is comfortable, amiable. Lisa finds herself relaxing without even realising it - there’s something about the simple presence of another human being in the room that just makes it easier to breathe. Just a reminder that she’s not alone.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Weeks and months melt past; Lisa feels like she blinks and suddenly it’s been six months since that awful morning when she and Frankie got the news. When she asks Frankie if she’d like to visit Red’s grave, Frankie nods resolutely, so Lisa goes to Kate to check if she wants to come, go and visit Richard at the same time.</p><p>“I’d like that,” says Kate, so they all make the trip down to the garrison the next morning. Kate heads off on her own to where Richard and Jamie are with a promise to go find them both after; Lisa has an arm around Frankie’s shoulders as they go to stand in front of the stone. Frankie runs her fingers against Red’s name, engraved in gold. “Hi, Dad,” she says. Her voice is a little shaky, but it doesn’t break. She talks quietly, seated on the grass by the plot, like it’s just any other conversation she ever had with him when he was alive. Lisa just sits by her and holds her hand, lets Frankie say what she needs to say. Her gaze lingers on the date and year of death, the little obituary carved below - <em>beloved son, husband, father, friend. </em>Her thoughts drift to Richard and Jamie, wondering what their headstones say. She doesn’t remember - she was too focused on Kate’s stillness and grief all those months ago. Lisa thinks of Kate standing alone at their graves, shoulders bent and quietly mourning. It’s not a nice thought.</p><p>She waits until Frankie’s done, says a few words of her own in her heart. She touches her fingers to her lips and presses them against the cold stone. <em>I love you, </em>she thinks - nothing more. No more goodbyes, she decides. He is not gone. Not in the ways that matter to her. She takes Frankie’s hand again and meets Frankie’s smile with one of her own. “Shall we go find Kate?”</p><p>She’s not difficult to find, a lone figure in the cemetery, leaned up against Richard’s headstone. She opens her eyes and smiles at Lisa when she drops to a knee beside Kate, one hand on her shoulder. “I’m all right,” she says. “I just needed to talk to them again, and I have.”</p><p>Lisa regards her, and realises it’s true; there’s a light to Kate’s eyes she hasn’t seen in a while, something that tells of peace and acceptance. She’s not okay yet, but she will be. It’s really, really good to see. She helps Kate to her feet and she and Frankie watch quietly as Kate rests a hand on Richard’s stone, lingering for a moment, then exhales determinedly and smiles. “Let’s go.”</p><p>They head out to go and get some lunch; Kate falls into step beside Lisa, easily, and Lisa’s struck by how in sync they are, such a far cry from their initial animosity. It feels like perfect balance.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Frankie’s atypically quiet the afternoon they get back from the cemetery; Lisa finds her seated on the back steps just looking at the sky. She leans against Lisa when she eases herself down beside her. “I think I’m not sad any more,” she says slowly, thoughtfully. “I still miss Dad. I still wish he was here. But it doesn’t hurt every morning when I wake up like it did at the beginning. I just miss him, but I’m okay. Does that make sense?”</p><p>“Course it does. I feel that way too. And I think he’d be really proud of you right now.” Lisa brushes a quick kiss to Frankie’s temple. “He loved you so much, Frankie. I know he’s watching over you from wherever he might be.”</p><p>Frankie links her fingers with Lisa’s, squeezing tight. “He loved you too,” she says. “He wouldn’t want you to be unhappy or alone.”</p><p>Lisa laughs, more than a little touched by Frankie’s words. “I’m not alone. I’ve got you.”</p><p>“And Kate.”</p><p>“And Kate,” Lisa agrees. She closes her eyes and thinks about how lucky she was that Kate suggested they move out of the garrison together - she doesn’t know how she would’ve survived the past six months alone. She makes a mental note to thank Kate properly for it. It’s the least she deserves.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>At practice, they hear from Ruby that most of the soldiers who shipped out alongside Red and Richard are home - some for good this time. Lisa sees Kate’s jaw pull tight when she hears it’s the last tour for some of the officers; she reaches over to take Kate’s hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, and Kate glances back with a brief smile that Lisa’s learned to mean <em>I’m okay.</em></p><p>It’s still hard to hear, though. Kate says as much that night, both of them lying in Lisa’s bed, Kate’s book left forgotten on the sheets between them. “He could have stayed,” she says quietly. “I like to think there’s another world where he did. Another timeline, maybe.”</p><p>“Me too,” Lisa says. Another world where Red survived and came back to her, and Frankie still had a father. If she could live in that timeline instead, she’d pick it in a heartbeat. At least… she thinks so. It gives her pause now, and she’s not sure why. She’s picked up the pieces of her life for months now, found a new, different happiness in this rented house with Kate and Frankie. She knows it should be easier to choose which life to give up - the one with her husband versus the one with her best friend, because far and away that’s what Kate is now - but somehow it isn’t. It’s strange. Lisa pushes the thought away; it feels uncomfortable to linger on it for too long. It’s not like it’s a possibility, anyway. This is the only world she gets - building a home with her friend and her daughter, finding a future even amidst great loss and blinding grief. As far as futures go, it’s a pretty good one.</p><p>“I’m so glad you said yes to living together,” says Kate, her head resting on Lisa’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have survived, on my own.”</p><p>“You’re my best friend,” Lisa replies. She hears Kate inhale slowly, pressed close against her side. “Yeah. Yeah, mine too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s a phrase she takes comfort in. Maybe that’s stupid, but Lisa doesn’t care. She hasn’t had a lot of best friends, her whole life - Red was the closest she got to one, and then she married him. It means something to her that Kate considers Lisa her closest friend. It tells of trust and respect and camaraderie, and she’s happy that Kate sees something in her worthy of that.</p><p>So it’s the biggest, most unexpected shock that just completely blindsides her when Kate sits her down one evening after Frankie’s gone to her room and drops a bomb, point-blank. “I think I need to move out.”</p><p>Lisa blinks, stunned into silence. For a second she’s downright certain she’s heard wrong. “What?”</p><p>“I need to move out,” Kate repeats. “I can’t keep… I can’t keep living here and pretending that we’re friends.”</p><p>Nothing - <em>nothing </em>- in the world could have prepared Lisa for the way those words strike her, like a hot knife through her guts. It suddenly feels hard to breathe but for the way her heart hurts, the way bewilderment and rage seems to buoy up her throat in equal measure. Kate’s expression is still and neutral and Lisa has to fight herself from saying something she’ll regret. After all this time, after everything they’ve been through together -</p><p>
  <em>I can’t keep pretending that we’re friends.</em>
</p><p>“Funny how I was pretty sure we were,” she finally says, caustic and flint-sharp from her anger. “But thank you for informing me after ten fucking months that it was all an act and that apparently you still can’t stand me because I don’t have enough of a stick up my arse like you do.”</p><p>Kate reels back like she’s been struck. “Lisa, that’s not what I - “</p><p>“Just fucking save it,” Lisa snaps. She thinks she might actually be shaking from how angry she is - how hurt and betrayed and utterly <em>lost </em>she suddenly feels. Her mind replays every single moment they’ve shared the past year, living in the same house, finding their footing and rebuilding their lives together. She was coping with Red’s death - god, she was more than coping, she was happy. She was home. And to hear, now, that none of that meant anything to Kate - that she didn’t <em>care </em>the way Lisa did -</p><p>“For fuck’s sake, Lisa, <em>that’s not what I meant,” </em>Kate yells, and Lisa almost jumps a foot in the air. Kate’s never yelled at her like that - never yelled like that before, period. There are tears in her eyes and with some alarm Lisa realises she looks - not angry, not frustrated, just desperate. “I can’t keep pretending you’re my friend. I can’t keep pretending you’re <em>just my friend</em>, all right? You’re not. Not to me, and you haven’t been just a friend to me in a really fucking long time. I can’t do it. I’ve already lost a husband and a son. I can’t spend the rest of my life in this house wanting you and forever pretending I don’t.”</p><p>Her voice breaks on the last sentence, hanging in the air. Lisa sits frozen running Kate’s words over and over in her mind, trying to make sense of them; Kate lets out a broken sob, a sound that seems so foreign, too vulnerable, nothing like Kate’s ever been when her mask is on. “Shit,” she rasps, pushing out of her chair and fleeing from the kitchen. That little voice in Lisa’s head suddenly returns with a vengeance - <em>stop her, </em>it screams. <em>Don’t let her go -</em></p><p>But it was too late then, with Red, and it’s too late now. “Kate,” Lisa shouts, lunging out of her own chair and towards the front door just as it slams shut. When she wrenches it back open the garden is empty and Kate’s nowhere to be seen; she darts out onto the front path and looks down the pavement, trying to spot Kate in the darkness. Something catches the light a few metres down, and Lisa gets the briefest glimpse of Kate’s figure, takes chase immediately.</p><p>She runs faster than she ever has, she thinks - something exploding like a starburst inside her chest, pushing her forward. She has to stop Kate. She has to make her turn around, make her stay. Because Kate’s lost a husband, a son, and she’s found something, someone else to love, and it’s dawning on Lisa that she did too, she just didn’t realise until she almost let it slip through her fingers. How has she not realised when it’s clear as day now? She made a home with Kate, then found one in her. If she goes, Lisa won’t survive it. Not again.</p><p>She finally grabs Kate before she rounds a corner, practically drags her into a stop by pulling her back, and they both stumble on the pavement. Lisa steadies them with an arm around Kate’s waist, catching her breath. Kate’s eyes are red, face already wet with tears. She looks a bit of a mess. She looks like the most beautiful thing Lisa’s ever seen.</p><p>“You can’t move out,” she says, voice rough from running. “You can’t leave me to do this alone. Frankie needs you. I need you.” She presses her forehead to Kate’s, keeping them flush against each other. “You don’t know how much I need you.”</p><p>Kate inhales sharply, swallowing hard, an inch from Lisa’s lips. “I’m not joking, Lisa.”</p><p>“Neither am I, Kate, fuck.” She doesn’t want to do this in the middle of the pavement in the dark; she wants them curled up in their bed - god, their bed, how long has it been theirs, how hasn’t she realised? - with honey lemon and falling asleep together. “Let’s go home, please. We can talk about it there.”</p><p>Kate trembles but nods; Lisa’s barely shifted her arm from Kate’s waist before Kate grabs it and tangles their fingers together, her hand fitting perfectly in Lisa’s. She holds on like she’s afraid Lisa will vanish if she lets go. Lisa raises her hand to her lips, presses a kiss to the back of it. Kate laughs; it sounds real. It sounds happy. It sounds like a new beginning, blossoming right here in the night, something to hold fast, something that will last. Lisa turns back and heads towards their home, through their front door into the hallway, into their future, and Kate lets herself be led.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
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